My Curse, Your Demise (One-Shot)
by The Obsidian Pen
Summary: That day when you betrayed us, you left three corpses who were once your dearest friends for Grimm to eat, you couldn't have expected one to survive. It was my Semblance and I didn't know, so how could've you? I would ask why you did it, why you killed us, but I stopped caring long ago down on cold soil. I don't want your reasons or excuses, only the face you make when I kill you.


**Just a little, overly edgy one-shot for my own enjoyment.**

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 **This Was A Fun Little Project To Make; But It Was Really For My Edgy Sanity's Sake!**

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 **My Curse, Your Demise**

He looked out the ship's window, looking upon the famous academy of Vale, Beacon. Its towers were high and proud, notifying all of its presence, but he wasn't here for some well-placed stacks of bricks and marble. No, 'Jaune' had another purpose, it was to find _**HER**_.

His stomach clenched in anticipation, as his breath was quick at the prospect of coming closer to his target. _'Calm yourself, she might not even be there yet.'_ Roman worked far too little for the amount of lien he brought, so he gave him minimalist information, but it was enough. She was either there, or she was to be there soon. As long as it's Beacon, he'd find her, so he accepted that information, as overpriced as it was.

What mattered was she was going there, that _fucking_ woman. Bile rose up in his throat from how his body clenched at the idea of seeing her again. He might've feel humiliated at such a display with so many around, but that bitch's face was all he could think of. His anxious and shaky legs brought him to the nearest bin, and he happily obliged his body and let go of his previous meal.

Unfortunate he didn't reach it as quick as he would and some spilled out, a small river reaching some whiny brat's shoes. They'll live, but _**SHE**_ won't when the earliest chance comes up. _'She even changed her damn name, did she know I was coming? Impossible.'_ She was arrogant, but not so much of a fool, he'd know after knowing her for so long.

Right until she stabbed him and their two friends in the back.

His vision turned red at the memory. They were friends, family even. And now he was dead, he knew so, but his high-speed regeneration Semblance kicked into overtime, letting him see his two dearest friends die while he was stuck in a constant cycle of regeneration and decay on the cold dirt.

Gabriel would never forget the feeling of wrongness and pain from being taken apart at a molecular level from natural decomposition, then having Aura weakly stich them back together, decay again, then repair over and over. It'd taken him weeks to control his Aura to strengthen that healing factor. All the while being unable to even move his eyes from Jack's and Ana's face as they decayed nonstop.

He saw how their face slowly sunk in, their smell of decomposition and rot as well as his own was unforgettable. Even now, this corpse his soul was occupying and keeping together was decaying and let out a rotting smell when he wasn't careful in his cleaning.

As the ship settled on the port of Beacon, he stood back up and took a calming breath. Perhaps he would see her once he stepped out. His regular combat clothes wouldn't do, and his old ones were things she'd recognize, so he opted for a simple armor plate and some hoodie he stole from some dingy shop.

His dual Hellfire shotguns were also a no go, there's a potential _**SHE**_ would recognize them since he used to use a single shotgun back in the day. _'Of all the weapons, a sword is what I'm least adept in. It's perfect,'_ he thought as he looked at the blade and sheath he bought off of Roman. It was cheap, which fit well with the information he gave.

Beacon was the destination to be, that's all that mattered. As long as he would meet her in Beacon, then he'd even wait years if need be. Hell, he waited three years in search of her, what's a few more going to do?

He stepped off the ship, and imagined seeing her face, mostly contorted with pain she stabbed this antique blade into her throat. His excitement caused his stomach to clench up again and threw up in a bin conveniently near the ship. _'I need to control myself.'_ It wouldn't do to randomly stab a student out of excitement. . . right?

"My name's Jaune Arc, future huntsman of Vale," he whispered to himself as he was bent over, ignoring the laughing teens. "I'm a simple teenage boy with simple teenage boy problems." Of course, he was a little older than that. "I'm not Gabriel Reyes. He died along with Ana Amari and Jack Morrison from a Grimm attack in the wilds near Mistral."

The one survivor of the four-man team didn't say the truth nor even bother telling them where their corpses were. His thoughts on it were evident as he bent the rims of the metal bin in his grip.

The only truth in that last bit was that the three were indeed dead. One of them was only slightly less so, and that would be her vicious undoing. He just needed to be in control when he first spots her, instead of yelling bloody murder as he commits. . . Well, bloody murder.

Fortunately he knew a good hacker that was able to get him in Beacon with immaculate fake transcripts. They better be, because she was extremely expensive to hire before she went back into hiding.

'Jaune' tensed up when he heard a loud explosion near him. When he looked to the source, it was a bit of a surprise. _'A Schnee in Vale? I would've thought killing a few of her relatives would have her old man keep her in spitting distance.'_ Ah well, it didn't matter. The White Fang were no longer paying him for those services.

A shame since they paid so well for a dead Schnee. Finding _her_ was more important, though, and after funneling enough money to Roman, he finally caught wind of the mystery woman that 'didn't exist'. Gabriel wanted to shoot that thief's head then and there for that, but of course she wouldn't be easy to find.

But easy enough to not think she left a survivor from her betrayal and make a mistake.

Now where was he supposed to go from here? It's not like he entered a den of Huntsmen before, he wasn't dumb enough when he's wanted as he was. Looking around, there was nobody he could ask for directions. . . except for that small girl sitting the floor all sad and pathetic. Gabriel sighed. What's a few minutes with a pissant going to do?

"Hey," Jaune greeted when he walked over, causing the girl to look up at him and stop her annoying mumbling. "Are you glued to the concrete, or is it just deceptively comfortable?" It would be so much easier to just shout at her to get her ass up, but he was just a regular teen with regular teen problems; no high-functioning psychopath here.

There was.

The girl chuckled sheepishly as she got up. "I guess you saw what happened?" Not so much 'saw' as much as 'heard', and chances were everyone in Vale that wasn't deaf heard it. Still, he nodded. "My welcome to Beacon, I guess," she mumbled to herself.

"Well then, how about we go for a walk to shake off that explosion you helped make?" Gabriel said with a lopsided smile, which he felt childish doing. At least the girl nodded and stood up chipper than just before. Any other day she would have seen his face as monstrous, many did after what happened, but Roman knew a good surgeon.

A shame such a talented and discredited doctor had to die to wrap up loose ends.

As he walked beside her, she introduced herself. "So, my name's Ruby Rose." With so much red with black as her color motif, he should've predicted something like that.

"Jaune Arc," Gabriel replied. "Nice weapon you have there." Normal people complemented other people's death devices, right?

"Isn't it!?" Ruby said with a wide smile, then proceeded to deploy her scythe and stabbed the ground.

"A scythe?" Such weapons were so impractical. You're more likely to stab yourself than the enemy. Well, there was that one huntsman he fought that used one, and it was impressive as it was irritating to fight against. He'll definitely remember that smell of booze as they fought, mostly because he's the only one who ever survived an encounter with the infamous Reaper.

"It's also a high-impact sniper rifle." She turned the handle and cocked it for dramatic effect. Ana must be turning in the shallow grave he dug for her. "What's your weapon?"

' _Heavy Hellfire shotguns that would turn people like you into mincemeat within seconds as I laugh,'_ he thought and refrained from saying. "I got this," Jaune said as he unceremoniously took out the blade from its sheath, which he placed on his forearm and deployed it. "It's a sword I can stow away in a sheath that turns into a shield."

Her disappointment was palpable, as was his when first saw it. Still, the sheath-shield on the arm was a handy feature. "Looks more like heirloom." Meh, she might be right. "Well I like it. Nobody has appreciation for the classics these days." How adorable. He wanted to crush her skinny neck for showing him pity.

"Thanks," was all he said as he put the scabbard and blade back. "How much longer till we reach the auditorium?" Surely they couldn't be far by now.

"I don't know, I was following you."

". . ." He _really_ wanted to crush this brat's neck.

* * *

He walked through the doors, finally reaching the auditorium for the first time since he started this mission. "Finally," Jaune sighed. Behind him was that useless girl he wasted time with.

"I'm sorry I didn't know where the way was," she said in a low voice. Such weakness. He would've gotten rid of her, but she just followed him until he finally found the right room. He ignored her, of course, which she picked up on and just stayed quiet until now.

It didn't matter anymore. This little fly would leave him soon enough.

"I'll see you in initiation, okay?" He ignored her, which seemed to make sink lower into herself. "Okay then. . ." She sulked off to some woman who was calling for her. Good riddance.

He looked around, hoping to see that familiar person. If she was signing up today, then she had to be among these prepubescent fools. He peered his eyes towards Ruby, who was with some blonde woman, which made him think of his own dyed hair.

Black and short, that's what his hair used to be back in the day, but now it was blonde and almost to his shoulders for the disguise. How people had the patience to maintain such a tedious liability was a mystery. Even Jack kept it mild, and he was the adventurous one.

"Is she even here yet?" he mumbled to himself. If Roman dealt bad information, then he didn't have long to live, but Gabriel wouldn't have even asked if Roman was unreliable in his merchandise to the Reaper of all people.

'Where the Reaper appeared, death followed' that was the reputation and title he achieved from the media, even though they never knew what he looked like or even if he existed, merely stories; which was odd since the only survivor seemed to keep it only to himself. Either way, that Torchwick bastard knew not to mess with him lest he makes an appearance at his residence. Not even that mute brat Neopolitan would be enough to stop him.

"You have come here to learn-" Jaune tuned the old bastard out. He didn't care for some lecture or other, merely focused in looking around as inconspicuously as possible without raising attention.

Try as he might, he didn't find that familiar hair or face. She could've changed it, and three years was enough to change some features, but not all. Regardless, if she wasn't here, then she would be soon, and he could hardly wait.

Now some blonde hag was on the stage, saying whatever and directing their way to their place of sleep. Even as people filed out, he couldn't find anyone even remotely familiar. Jaune growled slightly. "So she isn't here yet." In time she will, but he must be patient.

A year ago, he met a wandering monk who said patience was a warrior's greatest weapon. Of course, Gabriel countered that argument with a shotgun blast to the monk's face. There was no philosophical retort after that. He scoffed at the memory.

Walking out, he almost bumped into a rabbit Faunus with long, brown ears. He thought of if that woman might have disguised herself as one, but she was too arrogant and proud for such things. And even then, why would she? She didn't even know he was alive, let alone hunting her.

In the locker room, he was given a piece of paper by an attendant with a number on it. It was his locker for his years at Beacon. Might as well use to store away this damn antique. He wished he had his shotguns with him, but they were in his luggage in a secret compartment in case someone tried to be a little snoopy.

Then again, this was a school where kids walked around with explosives and blades strapped on them, so he wasn't too worried if they did actually find his Hellfire shotguns.

Finding the locker was easy enough, and he dialed the code to open it up. It was then slammed shut when he was bumped into it by some large armored teen.

"Whoops, sorry there, bud," he said with a laugh and walked off. Gabriel took deep breaths to calm himself down and not chase after him to show that fucker what his entrails looked like.

' _Don't cause a scene. Don't cause a scene. Don't cause a scene,'_ he repeated in his mind. _'I have three years to show that son of a whore his own intestines, calm yourself!'_ The prospect of that was indeed calming, so he turned back to his locker and stored the thankfully-sharp blade, scabbard, and armor away.

He let out another angry breath and changed his sneer into something more neutral. That often wasn't a problem, but in this situation a skull mask might stand out more than an 'unhappy' face.

He turned around to see a few milling about, some talking about the interaction between that bastard and him. Jaune let out a grunt of displeasure, but that was all he did as he walked to the designated sleeping area.

Considering it was still bright, there wasn't going to be any sleeping just yet, so Jaune spent the time just milling about and thinking. _'I have to be in a team. . .'_ he thought with displeasure. He _had_ a team, and two out of the four were dead, and the third _will_ be dead.

None of these pissants would live up to Jack and Ana, and as for the other one. . . he hoped he was teamed up with her. It would make things so much quicker. A pillow over her face and a stab, it's over within a night. Hell, he'd be in such a good mood he might not even kill the other two brats.

That's when Jaune froze midstep. _'Wait, why would she be signing up?'_ he thought in realization and fought the urge to punch the nearest wall to oblivion. _'Bitch's old as me, she wouldn't be a puny first year!'_ God damn it!

If _she_ was going to be here soon in accordance to Roman's intel, then there was an event that involved students from different schools coming here. _'That bastard Roman knew, didn't he?'_ Gabriel was seething, and it was visible as other first years took the long way around him.

The days leading up to the Vytal Festival, that's when he'd find her. It pissed him off that he'd have to wait months, even though coming as quickly possible was his own idea. Still, a small weight was off his shoulders. He had a timeframe, a plan, an idea, an incoming target!

Jaune was so far into his thoughts he didn't notice one of the brats turn the corner and bump into him. He didn't budge, but the teen fell to the floor. Looking to the nuisance, she had the white hair, and pale, blue eyes he'd seen several times before ending their owner's lives.

"Watch where you're going, pissant," Gabriel sneered. Normally seeing a Schnee was in an assassination mission, or one of the rarer torture moments to get information; not that it actually did anything. Threaten their children, then they sing like a young Nevermore, and die just as easily after they outlived their usefulness.

Pliers and jagged scissors were just pointless theatrics for the dumb animals in the White Fang observing the process.

"Excuse me?" she snapped. Such a tone would be inadvisable if she knew _who_ she was dealing with. "Do you know who you're talking to?" She poked his unarmored chest after she stood back up.

He probably met more Schnees and their associates than any other person alive, so yes, he did. "Depends. How many Schnees are still breathing? "

In his new life, Gabriel learned the difference between 'angry' and ' _angry_ ', most of that difference was how much death you wished on the other. This girl, however, looked like she was in between the two. "Watch your words, otherwise you won't make it to initiation," she threatened. Oh, struck a nerve, did he?

"My apologies then, _Weiss Schnee_ ," Jaune he mocked with a smirk. "I earnestly hope you won't meet the same end as your other relatives. . . like your mother." A shame, Momma Schnee was a pretty little thing.

But a paycheck was a paycheck.

From the way the Schnee grabbed his collar, he got her _angry_. "Careful now, wouldn't want people to know you were expelled for injuring a student before even your first day. Not to taint the great Schnee name and all that. Well, with how many of you left to use it, that is."

She growled and seethed, familiar eyes screaming for murder of this supposed fool he didn't know anything. Perhaps it was petty of him to poke at her dead mother, especially when it was preferable to lay low. Well, what could she possible do?

The result? She slowly and rigidly let go. _'That's what I thought, pissant.'_ The Schnee girl didn't let up on her sneer, though, which is probably the only offence she'd do to him for the time being.

"Best you hope we don't cross paths again, lest I accidentally run you through and end your sorry life." Ah, that look of pure hatred and a declaration of killing him, in that case she's very similar to her mother. . . minus the fist-sized hole in her head. . . for now.

With that threat made, she stormed off, students who were watching close by moved out of her way. None wanted to be in the way of a woman promising nothing but violence to those in her way.

Gabriel thought about what would happen if they ended up in the same team after initiation. He'd have to apologize for that. . or she'd be the first to die in a blameless 'training accident'; he'd do it pro bono, too. Regardless, it was the first time he met a Schnee without needing to kill one, so that was interesting. Shrugging off the new enemy he made, he continued back on his way.

Back to the subject of teammates after initiation, he's going to have to deal with three pissants who can't keep up. _'Grades don't matter, I won't be here long enough to change occupations.'_

A Huntsman he was not, a mercenary with a vicious reputation he was. Besides, being a merc paid better. It covered the costs of his pricey shotguns, and helped his family through some tough financial troubles.

The thought of his family annoyed him. Not because he disliked them, he loved them, apparently. They can't reunite, not even after he kills that bitch who did this to him, partly because he didn't want to, but also because of something else. Gabriel was the Reaper, a feared, horribly disfigured mercenary and assassin that sold his soul to whoever had the right connections and money.

What would happen to his family if people knew that? They'll just have to settle with the anonymous donations they've been getting. They were the one thing of his old life he just couldn't seem to let go. They're like a damn itch, he couldn't just ignore it, and he had to do something even though he didn't want to.

It's like the part not full of pure hatred and revenge of Gabriel Reyes was still in here somewhere. If it was, then it's just a matchstick in a bonfire, it changed nothing. Gabriel was dead, only the Reaper lived.

* * *

It was getting dark, already the last beams of sunshine were vanishing from the horizon. He got his night clothes, which was just a cotton, long-sleeved shirt and pants. The store clerk suggested a onesie of all things, so the feared mercenary decided to ignore him with only minimal threats to his life at the absurd suggestion and stole what he wanted.

 _Proper_ night clothes in hand, he walked to the bathroom stalls to avoid showing the kind of damage he sustained that couldn't be hidden with surgery. On top of that, as irritating as it was to maintain, he needed to apply salves and oils that stopped the smell of rot. Being in a near constant state of decay does that.

Now he might smell like he worked out a little, but that's going to change soon if he doesn't fix it. The last thing he needed was people asking why the room smelled like a corpse and find him in the end.

"Renny, are you done yet?" some orange-haired girl half-shouted outside the men's bathroom. "We've got to make a plan, already. How do you feel about sloths?" That wasn't something he ever expected to hear at all. . . in any way. . . whatsoever.

A black haired teen walked out in what could only be his sleepwear. "Nora, can we talk about this tomorrow?" he asked tiredly. "And I don't know what you want with sloths. . ."

Neither did Jaune. "Hey, if you're done with your flirting, mind moving out of the way?" It wasn't a polite request, but the girl just laughed anyway.

"Oh, silly,-" Jaune had the sudden urge to kill her. "-flirting is for people who are together-together, but we're just regular together. Right, Ren?" The boy just nodded, the sort of disciplined kind who did it constantly to appease a lost cause.

"Then let me rephrase for your pretty, little head," Jaune said, earning the girl's attention. "Move. Aside. Now." He didn't have the patience to deal with this.

The damn brat actually blew him a razzberry. "Would it hurt you to say 'please'?" This bitch really wanted to die. . .

"Didn't you hear me?" Jaune growled as he slowly stepped forward. "Move aside, or I'll make you." He wished he had his steel-tipped finger gloves, just to see her squirm when he grabs her throat and digs in a few claws into her neck, especially when he saw her take a step towards him with a challenging grin.

The boy stepped between them before Gabriel could act out the fantasy he had in his head. "Calm down, let's let cooler heads prevail here," Ren said calmly, then turned to Jaune. "We'll get out of your way, we're done, anyway."

Finally, a man who knows when to get out of his sight. He grabbed Nora's arm and dragged her off, only sticking out her tongue at Gabriel. Now he wished he had his clawed gloves just to tear out that tongue of hers.

' _I hate these fucking prepubescent brats.'_ He was the infamous and feared Reaper, for God's sake! He worked for terrorists, corporations who wanted the death of a rival, rich men who wanted other rich men and their families dead, the list of employers after his skills were unending. Now? He walked among little shits pretending to be a little shit himself.

He spat the bad taste out of his mouth and entered the bathroom, the bag of 'body maintenance' products along with night clothes in his arms. There were a few of said little shits just chatting inside, but he ignored them and entered one of the stalls.

Gabriel took off the hoodie and jeans. He took a good look at the body he was 'gifted' by the late surgeon who fixed him up. No more were there scars that looked like infections littering his body, no more was there strange marks that looked like burns and holes. There was only a few scars from a scalpel indicating the skin grafted on him, but could easily be ignored or explained.

This pale and near perfect skin sickened him. The marks from that day, the constant reminder of that whore who did this to him and his friends, now washed away as if it never happened. He'd always remember, though, no clean skin would overtake his memory of how his body _really_ was.

Shaking his head from the melodrama, _Jaune_ took out a few bottles and jars and applied the contents onto his person. Wax, oils, paste, everything that needed to be done to not smell like a corpse. The malleable wax was added later to make sure no water would wash off the other salves that kept the stench in.

' _So much work to get that bitch,'_ he thought annoyed. A normal mission would be to just appear in the master bedroom, shoot the target in the head, kill the target's screeching mistress he or she was sleeping with behind the employers back, then leave. Boom, enough lien to buy a house and live a cozy life.

Instead, he used those funds to fake his way into Beacon. If he didn't kill _her_ at the end of this, it's a complete waste of time and money. Roman, though, should be more worried if he gave him bad information. He and his mute assistant won't live long if they were fucking with him.

Exiting the stall, he dressed in simple, black, cotton pants and shirt, his 'combat' clothes, which might as well just be casual wear, were in a bag he intended to use as a pillow. _'I didn't even pack a sleeping bag.'_ He could use the black coat of his _actual_ combat gear, but there was too much metal on it for him to sleep comfortably.

Whatever, the stone floor would do fine. It's not like he was one of luxuries anyway.

When he was about to exit the bathroom, the door swung open, and revealed the asshole who slammed him into the locker earlier. After calming down, Gabriel started thinking it might truly have been an accident, a simple mistake. That changed when he made to move around him, the fucker moved to stand in front of him again. ' _How many of these damn brats want to be killed!?'_

"I almost didn't recognize you, vomit boy," the snot-nosed fuck said with a smile, so Jaune decided to move around once more, but he stood in his way again. "Whoa, where're you going, buddy?" He's a dead man, there's just no logical situation where he wasn't.

Hand flexing as if crushing a heart over and over, Gabriel demanded as calmly as possible, "move aside." There was no reasonable person here to drag him off, and he can't kill this inbred bastard just yet. _'Be calm, he's just a kid who will die later.'_ That calming method didn't work. . .

"What? You don't want to be my friend? Harsh." The brown-haired fuck pretended to sound hurt. If he kept this up, he wouldn't have to pretend. "C'mon, let's be friends. I mean, why wouldn't you want a friend like m- _Hrk!_ "

The fist Gabriel shot to the fuck's gut just made a sweet melody on impact, and the view as the bastard doubled over made it even sweeter. The look of surprise on his face, though? _Priceless._

Other occupants in the bathroom either filed out or watched the violence. Were they hoping for a show? Fuck it, he'll oblige, but not for them.

"Big mistake, asshole," the fool said. When the bastard made to grab his shoulder, he didn't make it as another fist slammed into his nose, and another into his gut. He grabbed his neck, twisted around and threw the armored brat to the wall.

"You made two errors, you inbred bastard," Gabriel said coldly as the boy wobbled to his feet with pure _anger_ in his eyes. The fool shouted as he made to tackle, but a palm strike to the forehead shot his head back, and the powerful kick in the unarmored gut threw him to the wall once more, where he proceeded to vomit on the floor. "You thought I was easy pickings, that's your first mistake."

He kneed the boy in the face as he was emptying his stomach, making him bleed from the now broken nose. Ugh, he'd needed to clean up his pants. Grabbing brown hair, Gabriel dragged him to the farthest stall, ignoring his struggles and strikes on his forearm, as well as anxious onlookers who didn't want to be part of this.

"Everyone, out!" The patter of feet getting distant was a good sign. Throwing him in the stall, he threw another punch to his face for good measure, dazing him. "The second and worst mistake you did, was pissing me off, even when I showed you kindness." He didn't move out of the way. What's happening now was his fault, and now he's paying for it, starting with a punch to the side of the head.

Even with his head rattled, he still begged. "Please. . . stop." Where was the machismo from before? He sounded so pitiful between breaths. He'll show him what happens when you show weakness to the Reaper. When he made to grab his hair again, the boy attempted to swat Gabriel's hand away, which earned him a kick between the eyes, slamming the back of his head to the porcelain toilet, cracking the bowl.

"I stop when I want to stop, pissant," Jaune sneered, and grabbed the dazed fool's hair, and dragged his head onto the toilet, placing it between the rim of the bowl and the toilet seat. He bent down to whisper into his ear, "if I ever see you in my way again, I _will_ kill you. If we end up in the same team, I _will_ kill you. Tell anyone about what happened, I _will_ kill you. Understood?" He whimpered, which wasn't enough, so he raised the toilet seat and slammed it onto his temple. "Let's try that again. **Understood**?" The little rat limply nodded. "Good."

He looked back to see if there were any foolish onlookers, there weren't any. If they were as righteous as they claim to be, then they would call a professor, which might actually be the case, so he needed to finish this quick. He slammed the toilet seat on his temple again, only harder as to knock him out, and a few more times just in case. The loud splats, thuds and cracks were practically music to his ears.

Keeping the toilet seat on the fucker's bleeding head, Jaune dusted his hands and said to the unconscious body, "I'm done." Walking over to the sink, he washed his face from the blood that splashed on his face during that performance. _'Fortunately, I'm wearing black.'_ The blood that might've come on his clothes was practically unnoticeable, but he did wash the knee of his pants from residue puke and blood.

After finally giving himself a quick check up and to confirm he was indeed clean, he exited the bathroom happier than he expected to be. There was a small audience, likely from just hearing the sounds rather than those who witnessed what happened. Made no difference.

"What're _you_ looking at?" he sneered and walked as they parted a way for him to pass. Huh, perhaps it _was_ going to be a pretty good day. So much for not attracting attention, though. Ah well, it was worth it, especially if these stupid brats finally realized not to cross him during his stay.

His good mood was soured when he remembered that he needed to make buddy-buddy with these runts. Well, 'buddy-buddy' in the loosest of terms. He had to remind himself that he just needed to put up with whoever for just a few months, nothing more. . . and if they happen tragically die from a Grimm hunt, then the sooner the better.

Speaking of people who should die early, Gabriel entered the ballroom that was the designated sleeping area for the trainees. Many already rolled out their sleeping bags, and just as many hung out with who he assumed were classmates from their respective school.

Knowing these prepubescent brats, he'd guess a few were simply too excited to sleep, or the boys showing more confidence around girls they hoped to impress. _'Must be a jarring speaking to other girls besides your own mothers.'_ He had seven sisters, so he grew up with a lot of variations. . . Well, Gabriel did, the Reaper has no family.

He dropped the bag in an empty corner, claiming it as his own. Vacant, overlooking the room, and a good spot to avoid being taken from behind, its perfect for him. He would start sleeping now, but chatter was still very much alive, and he doubted shouting his opinion about their mothers would help shut them up.

He just needed some patience, and patience was a warrior's greatest weapon, but not as great as a shotgun blast, which sounded like a fantastic idea right now to shut these little rats up.

Just when things finally began to quiet down, a blonde brat came up to him. God, he hated kids, especially brats with a wide, saccharine smile expecting something from him. Pretending to sleep sounded viable, so he tried that and hoped this girl would leave him be.

"Hello~" she greeted, which he ignored. "Wow, you're the fastest sleeper I've ever seen. I never heard of someone who can sleep within seconds of closing his eyes." This bitch took the hint and threw it out the window.

"I have no interest in chitchat, go away," Jaune said with his eyes still closed. He was in a relatively good mood from beating down that bastard earlier, he really didn't want this brat to ruin it. So it was after a few pleasant seconds of silence that he asked, "you're still here, aren't you?"

"Pretty much." God damn it. . .

Gabriel sat back up with newfound irritation and looked at the next suicidal pissant who dared to annoy him. Large amounts of hair, enough to make him feel annoyed at the very prospect of its constant maintenance. Even masked in pajamas, she still had a figure that would've excited old Gabriel simply from looking at her. Okay, now with that assessment done, the fuck did she want?

"Explain what you want, so I can know exactly how to tell you to piss off."

"Yang, he clearly doesn't want to talk, so let's leave him alone," a meek voice said from behind the blonde girl. Yeah, he recognized the voice of a pipsqueak that wasted his time.

How nice of her to take his side. "Listen to the girl, blondie. I don't want to chat, talk, or mingle," Jaune told her as he laid back down. "Now piss off."

"Aww, come on, who wouldn't want to talk with two young and attractive girls?" He had one person in mind, himself. "Besides, I'm sure you and Ruby just started on the wrong foot. I'm sure you'll both be great friends if you gave it another shot. C'mon, waddyasay?"

Was. . . Was she serious? "I see the problem here," he said as he got back on his feet. "I take it that pipsqueak here is socially awkward, so you took it upon yourself find some friends for her since she lacks backbone. Am I right?" She was quiet, but her wince at the wording said he was accurate. "The problem here is that you think I _want_ to be her friend. Now that you know I don't, piss off."

"Yeesh, what crawled up you and died." He hated these brats, but _loathed_ people too fucking stupid to do as he said. If she wouldn't leave him alone, he'll show her how much she should.

"Let me make this perfectly clear for your micro-sized brain. Fuck. Off." He stepped closer and stared into her eyes, which lost all sense of hope for a new friend for pipsqueak, and saw someone who disrespected her in front of her classmates and future colleagues. Good, because that's exactly the case. "Do I have to make you leave, or will you make it easy on the both of us?" He looked her up and down. "But looking at you a bit more, you are just the embodiment of _easy_ , right?" That remark clearly pissed her off.

Clothing wise, Gabriel worked with a sniper who wore more revealing clothes to capture her targets with her allure like a spider's web, so this blonde brat was nothing in comparison. Still, she should've taken the hint and fucked off if she didn't want such 'comments'.

"You bastard," she seethed, the prospect of friendship long forgotten, but showed surprising restraint. Instead of picking a fight, she grabbed her sister's arm and dragged her away. "C'mon, Rubes, we can find someone who's _actually_ worth it." Ooh, how _harsh_.

People around were looking at the two as they were looking at him. "If you keep staring at me with eyes like that, I'll start having the urge to _gouge_ them out. Keep that in mind while you pissants sleep," he growled. They didn't so much ogle him anymore, their entertainment for the night long gone, but not forgotten as they thought it prudent to start whispering to themselves.

' _I hate children,'_ Reyes thought as he laid back down and rested his head on the impromptu pillow. The only use for these damn brats was to be bounties when they grew up. _'Should I even sleep?'_

He was a wanted man and was now surrounded by enemies, even if they didn't know it. Even if they did, what could they possibly do? It wasn't them that was the problem, he was confident in killing every prepubescent pissant here easily without his Hellfire shotguns, its papa and momma bear that he's worried about.

A building was full of goody-goody dumbasses, but it had strong ones as well, ones he was best avoiding if he wanted to stay here long enough kill _that_ person. If things went awry, he would be facing a real threat to his life, but killing that bitch was worth it.

There wasn't much of an escape plan, but more of a 'don't attract the wrong kind of attention' kind of plan. Every student hated him? Feeling was mutual. A violent delinquent? Worst case scenario was expulsion. A student whose three teammates died from suspicious circumstances within a month? Yeah, that was a problem.

' _Bah! I'm overthinking things.'_ He just needed to approach things calmly, and everything would be fine. . . now if only the group of kids who now decided to argue loudly just fucking died!

He looked to the source with utter hate, and saw the blondie form before, pipsqueak, and Schnee bickering amongst themselves. It was hard not to walk over there and just slit their throats, but decided better of it when people began shushing them. . . and he didn't have his sword.

Laying his head back down on the 'pillow', he waited for the darkness to take him. He hated this, hated waiting to be able to wring _her_ neck and show the same mercy she'd shown to Jack, Ana, and him. What's worse, he had to wait with the largest collection of pissants Remnant's ever seen.

Those were the annoying thoughts Gabriel slept on, but it didn't do anything to his dreams. They've always been the same for the past three years. Dreamless.

* * *

I t was like a fucking time skip, it always felt that way when waking up. No reinvigoration, no satisfaction, no feeling of rest, just a blink, and you don't feel as irritable as the night before. Honestly, there was almost no point for him to even sleep anymore.

Daylight mixed with annoying moans and groans woke him up. It was almost familiar to the sounds his victims made, but theirs were temporary due to their guts leaking out, while these bastards were just waking up and seemed unending in their bitching.

' _It's just waking up early, man the hell up!'_ Jaune thought as he sat up, and was tempted to yell it, but instead grabbed his bag/pillow and headed to the bathroom. On the way, he passed a familiar boy with brown hair, who widened his eyes at him and turned a one-eighty.

Jaune smirked at that and let out a dreamy sigh. Oh how he wished for more people to be like that shit stain, just to turn the corner and leave him be. And the fact no teacher was hunting after him was a good thing. The fool's Aura healed him up well, too. No evidence the moment he woke up and Aura began repairing his battered face.

The bad part being no student would know what he'd do to them and then think twice about pissing him off. _'Ah well, I'll have to make sacrifices if I need to pass off as a student for a few months.'_ He'll still pummel anyone to near death if they decided to annoy him for fun. . . or perhaps just kill them altogether; whichever's more convenient at the time.

In the bathroom, he entered a stall and threw his casual clothes on. Before that, he checked the coatings he applied to his skin to hide the smell of decay, and it appeared in perfect condition. He'd still need to reapply in a week, but no damage or such was done from the previous night.

If he ever entered what he dubbed 'Wraith Mode', he'd have to apply the stuff extremely quickly if he needed to hide among people again. The stench was at its worst during that. Stopping the Aura that's constantly healing your corpse of a body from turning into a dust does that, but the result was being intangible and appear exactly like smoke.

A few convenient things come with that, like being able to squeeze through extremely small spaces, as well as be completely impervious to bullets and blades that come at you. Granted, he couldn't attack during that state, but it was a useful infiltration tool and a valuable 'get the fuck out' move. The alteration to his true combat gear to be air tight for 'odor-ly' stealth was expensive, but it was an investment that paid back in folds.

He exited the bathroom with his jeans and hoodie back on, and made his way to the locker rooms for his equipment. Well, Jaune's equipment, which was certainly not _Gabriel's_. He missed his Hellfire shotguns, even more so when he found his locker and opened to see the cheap armor and sword he now had to use.

A girl walked beside him and opened her locker. A quick peek to the person revealed much more than he hoped he'd see, the bow on her head being a prime part of what stood out. He'd seen it a lot when working with the White Fang, mostly at Taurus' side. With that, though, brought a sense of panic. She knew about the Reaper!

' _Adam's girl. The hell is she doing here!?'_ he thought in panic at the prospect of being ratted out but some Faunus brat. He forced himself to calm down. _'Relax, no one has ever seen you outside your gear and mask. Even if she did, I have a new face. She doesn't know, but she needs to go.'_ A link to him here was bad, mission failure bad.

She could potentially recognize his speech pattern, his walk, his mannerisms, or if ever his shotguns were revealed. She was a massive security risk that needed to be taken out of the equation. Permanently!

"Can I help you?" Gabriel was snapped out of his thoughts, and found out he was staring at the girl when he was spaced out, which made her clearly uncomfortable.

Well, if she's asking, she can fucking leave! "No, I'm fine," he said instead and turned back to his locker. _'What if she was here on White Fang business?'_ Adam Taurus was a zealot on borderline insanity to his cause for equality bullshit, so what could Beacon have that he wanted? Did they need and inside man before invaded and destroyed it? That's a little too ambitious.

What was this girl's name, anyway? Jake? Drake? Bla- Whatever, something along those lines. What mattered was that killing this brat would bring a load of problems from the Fang. The only good thing was that she wouldn't know about his new appearance, even if she didn't know about what was under his mask. So he had the advantage, but it's worrisome if she found things familiar about him, in which case all the advantages he had would become fragile.

That must not happen! Not when he's so close to his target after so long.

"So, you came to protect the realm of mankind?" Jaune asked as he started putting on his armor. He was just fishing for information, and knew she wouldn't even give him answers especially with dumbass questions, but what else was there to do?

"Yes," she simply answered, not really giving attention to either him or the response. Fishing status: Failed.

"And Faunus, right? Wouldn't want to keep them in danger." That was the dumbest and most roundabout way to ask 'Hey, you're White Fang, right?' he'd ever asked. He might as well have yelled 'Huzzah, equality!' and hoped for the fucking best.

She looked to him with narrowed eyes. "Yes," she answered slowly, now with added suspicion. "Is there a reason you're even talking to me?" The alternative was killing her, which would be much easier at this point, White Fang's ire or not.

Jaune shrugged. "Thought I'd try to make friends with fellow heroes." That hurt to say in more ways than one, mostly from how damn childish it sounded.

"Just like you tried to make friends with the two girls last night?"

Ah, she heard that? Not exactly a surprise since he never intended it to be a quiet conversation, and that the entire room heard how he essentially called that girl a slut in front of her friends. . . fun memories.

"They were persistent even though I told them I wanted to be alone," Jaune defended. "They should've done just so, but didn't." His pushed the last clamp on his chest plate.

"I'm getting familiar with the feeling," she replied unkindly, placing some kind of cleaver on her back and closing the locker. "In fact, I'm feeling it right now. Let's not talk again." New fishing status: Learn how to fucking fish!

Before she walked away, Gabriel thought of his next action. Should he just reveal that he knew about her being White Fang? No, that may actually have her target him to protect her cover. How about killing her? A sound plan worthy to be done, but no, there were too many witnesses, and killing a dozen preteen bastards would raise questions and point fingers.

Fuck it!

Just as she turned, he said quietly, "Adam better know what he's doing." She froze. He knew she could hear him, as he intended. The way she turned back to face him was not what he had planned, at least, not with that face.

Shock, anger, panic, fear? He couldn't really pin down the right emotion she's showing, and he was adept in seeing those faced. Might be a mix of all of them for all he knew.

"H-How do you know that name?" Now _that_ was fear. Couldn't really blame her, though, Adam was a nutcase and a half.

Going around his own locker, he marched up to her. She twitched, the kind when you see when fighting the urge to get into a battle stance when a threat came close to you. Good. He was the one with the advantage here. So he leaned in to whisper into her ear. "Forget about how I know, just let me make this as crystal as possible for you animals. I don't care why you're here in Beacon, I'll stay quiet because I don't give a damn, but step in my way, and I'll kill you, even if you _are_ Adam's bitch."

He stepped out of her personal space, enough to see that she was looking at the wall without focus. Sweating and panting that her cover was blown so early, he assumed. Whatever, he said his piece. "Remember what I said about getting in my way, because I will not show mercy to any of you bastards."

Fang or not, employer or not, rich billionaire philanthropist or not, get in the way of his target, then the Reaper would hang you with your wife's intestines. This brat better get it through her head, even though she didn't know his true identity, she will if she decided to play with fire.

Jaune left her with her internal, disorderly panic. He didn't care if she attacked him right now, because that would only be the end of her. He also didn't care about whatever mission the White Fang had here where they needed someone on the inside, they can do whatever they damn well please as long as it wasn't fucking him over.

He felt someone put a hand on his shoulder, and was just about to put his sword in the perpetrator's neck, but held back as it was the Faunus brat from before. She asked in a very quiet voice, "you're not going to tell anyone I'm a Faunus?"

Oh for the love of- "As long as you don't fuck with me, I don't care. Get in my way or piss me off, I'll even sing the truth." Was she hiding the fact she was a Faunus? Now that he looked again, she didn't really show any of her animal features. But with only a bow, seriously? People here were dumber than he thought if that worked.

She stared long and hard, even as he glared and sneered, she searched for a hint of a lie. Maybe he really should just kill her and get this over with. . .

"I said this before, I don't care about what you have in mind or what you want. Maybe you want to destroy Beacon, who gives a shit? Not me," Jaune said angrily. "Now fuck off or we'll see just how melodious my singing is. From this point on, we don't know each other at all. Understood?" When she only glared at him full of distrust, he remembered that cunt from the bathroom. "Let's try this again, _Faunus_. **Understood**?"

She winced and quickly looked around when he said 'Faunus' louder than a whisper, but luckily for her, there wasn't anyone close enough to have heard. She looked to him, but now distrust was replaced with anger. His smirk didn't help calm her down, but she did give him a strained nod.

"Good girl. Run along, now, I don't feel like catching any of your fleas," Gabriel mocked, and she looked like she was about to slice him with that cleaver for it. "I said _go_." Even though frustrated, she did turn to leave the locker room, but not before she gave him one more glare, _then_ went out of his sight.

Gabriel sighed. He wondered if he was making too many enemies here or simply not making friends. Well, Jaune was making too many enemies and not enough friends, Gabriel was dead, but the Reaper had entire kingdoms after him. What're a few preteens going to do?

They were annoying to deal with for sure, but not as annoying as that warlord with the massive gauntlet he met once. 'Only through conflict do we evolve', that nutjob would always preach. Gabriel never thought he'd find a crazier zealot than Adam Taurus, but at least he paid much better than the White Fang. And hey, conflict was good for business.

What was that fool's organization called again? Baron? Charon? Tal- Whatever, something along those lines.

Jaune went back to his locker for his antique sword. He picked it up still in its sheath-shield thing, and placed it on his belt. He really did miss his shotguns. Made short work of anything and everything with just a pull of the trigger, but now he had a glorified butter knife.

' _Tch, whatever. I can kill any of these bastards with my bare hands. A handicap would do some good to slightly even the odds.'_ He closed the locker and moved to leave, but instead almost knocked into the red brat form yesterday, but she's now more on the side of an angry puppy than a pitiful kitten.

"I want you to apologize to my sister."

Okay, what the hell? "Pipsqueak, I've no ti-"

"Ruby," she interrupted. "My name's Ruby, not 'pipsqueak'. Get it right." Seriously, what the hell? "I want you to apologize to my sister, now." Can someone tell him just what the fuck's going on!?

"Look here, pip-" "Ruby!" "I'll do worse than call you 'pipsqueak' if you keep fucking interrupting me!" She flinched, but not as much as he expected. So she came mentally prepared, did she? How annoying. "Look here, there are two things I don't do." He stuck up one finger. "I don't work for free." then he raised a second finger. "I don't apologize. End of story, now piss off."

"What you said to my sister was inappropriate and just rude." Her sister? She caught his confusion and added, "Yang's my sister, the one from last night you were being a real jerk to. You need to say sorry." The blonde one was her sister? Their parents had some explaining to do. . .

"No," he answered, and took a step forward, but she held her ground. She can pretend all she wanted, but she'd still be a pissant. " _Your_ sister was the one who came to me while I was trying to sleep. _Your_ sister was the one who badgered me for _your_ sake. I told her I didn't want anything to do with you, yet she persisted. After all that, if I happen to hurt your sister's _widdul feewings_ ~, she can feel free to jump off a fucking cliff!"

She thought she hid it, but the tension was clear on her face. Just because she stood solid, she was still just a little girl facing a mercenary who killed countless of her kind, only they were better trained and fought for years. This brat had no idea how close she was to death itself.

Off to the side, Gabriel saw a few brats enjoying the show. Some openly stared, others were on their Scrolls, but attention was clearly towards him and pipsqueak. Turning to them and said, "if you keep staring like that, I'll start having the urge to castrate every single fucking one of you." He softened his glare and smirked. "Actually, do stay, I need to work on my sword skills some more."

Some took a step back from them unexpected attention, but others just looked unimpressed and scoffed at the threat. If they think he was just a sideshow, he'd gladly drag them by the hair to show them exactly how wrong they were and how pointless that confidence over him was.

Back to the matter at hand, he looked into silver eyes once more. "Just leave me alone, and we won't have a problem. Make sure to tell your sist-"

"I'm sorry." He would've chewed her out for interrupting _again_ , but this was an exception, so he let her continue. "I know what Yang did was wrong, and it didn't make it any better that it was for my sake. I'm sorry."

What's this bullshit!? She doesn't have the right to come to him, demand an apology, then act all guilty and apologize herself. Pick an angle! "I don't want your apology, only your absence." He shoved her aside as he moved forward.

He took a step back when a red blur appeared in front of him. "That doesn't excuse what you did," said the blur that transformed into pipsqueak. Ugh, speed-based fighters were absolutely the most annoying, especially when they have the ability to blink to wherever. "What you said was uncalled for, and you need to apologize."

To be honest, his patience was quickly running out, and that wasn't a good sign to whoever was causing it. He had to give it this girl, though, she was persistent and oddly prepared for him, but how far?

Jaune let out a breath, and looked to her with newfound patience. "It means that much to you, huh?" he asked neutrally, to which she nodded. "And if I apologized, you and your sister would leave me alone?" Again, she nodded.

"I promise we'll be out of your hair, I just don't want us to start Beacon with a bad taste. Please." She didn't plead, but she did sound hopeful.

Ruby flinched a little when he gently placed his hands on her shoulders, but relaxed when he didn't look angry. "Well, if it means that much to you." When she gave a hopeful smile he smiled as well in return, then bashed her head to the metal lockers with as much strength as he could muster. "You can fuck right off." First one should've done it, but as a precaution he grabbed her head, pulled back, and rammed it a second time to the already dented locker.

When he let go, her knees gave out and collapsed to the floor, no longer conscious of the tremendous hit that rattled her brain, Aura or not. God how he hated these weaklings who try to play strong. Aura didn't protect them as much as people think when you weren't actively strengthening it, and that tended to breed idiots like these.

He turned her over with his foot to check his work. Her eyes weren't fully closed, but they were very dazed and unfocused. _'Pretend all you want, you'll always be a pissant.'_

Stepping over her unconscious body, he made to leave the locker room, more than a few new eyes on him after the loud noise caused by a skull smashing on metal. Plenty of witnesses but no deaths, so he should be good on the no-expulsion end. Although that blonde sister might be a problem, but he could handle her.

"What was that sound?" a brat asked after he turned the corner. Some redhead with green eyes and. . . Was that _bronze_ armor? What was wrong with these people!? He should just stab her through the heart and save everyone the trouble!

"I slammed a brat's head into a locker that she went for a second nap," he answered with a shrug.

Green eyes blinked. "Was that a joke?"

He rolled his eyes. "Sure is. Want me to tell you the joke I told the brat from before?" He had no problem ramming another head into steel. "You know what? Never mind, I wasted enough time on you pissants." The redhead frowned, but did nothing else when he walked passed her and out the locker room.

At the doorway, he stretched his arms and took a large breath of air, and exhaled his tension away. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad day after all? From the corner of his eye, he saw that blonde brat, Yang, casually walk closer to him. They made eye contact when he turned to look, to which she glared, where he responded with a smirk, and walked the other way.

She was wearing a different set of clothes, one that he was confident in his deduction was her combat gear, mostly from them _not_ being pajamas, and that she had large bracelets of some kind on her wrists. Looking over his shoulder, she was armed and ready, but headed to the locker room anyway, why would that be?

Her sister. She didn't know about her sister, which was why she didn't attack him outright, but rather just a casual glare. If she was looking for her sister, it was going to be real soon. He had to admit, what he did to pipsqueak was more out of impulse than anything. _'Tch, this might turn that Yang brat into a pest and come after me. I should've thought this through . . ._ '

But really, what could she possibly do? Kill him? Too la-

He froze.

Not from any kind of ice technique or a sudden feeling of fear, Gabriel just. . . _froze_.

Ahead of him, he saw a familiar face, one he hadn't seen in a _long_ time. _'She's here. . .'_ She changed her appearance, but not enough. Her clothes were different, but not enough. Her walk was different, but not enough. _'It's her. It's her. It's her. It's her. It's her,'_ he kept repeating in his mind.

Gabriel didn't know what was going on with his body. When she walked passed him not a foot away, he expected to snag her neck and break it, but instead he just felt. . . drunk?

His body was lax, his mouth dry, his thoughts flooded, even as he turned around to see the back of her head, he didn't see it nor hear her footsteps. He was faced with a glowing, yellow gauntlet that was getting closer and closer to his face, followed by a loud angry roar.

On the stone floor, he didn't black out, but Gabriel felt it creeping up quick. Just before it took him, he saw his old friend's familiar dark brown eyes looking at him over her sunglasses. _'Found you. . .'_

* * *

 **Do I need to say who the target is? I hope not. How many RWBY characters in Beacon do we know with sunglasses?**

 **Please leave a review, it's all I have T_T**


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